Joe drove her back to her apartment. Sierra's throat went dry as she saw the flashing lights on the police cars out front. Inside two cops were asking Molly questions. An EMT was hovering over her applying an ice pack to the massive bruise blooming on her right eye. The blow had split her eyebrow down the middle in a jagged line now held together with butterfly bandages.

The apartment was trashed. The glass-topped coffee table had been flipped over, leaving glittering shards all over the carpet. There was a hole in the wall where the assailant had thrown a can of paint against it. The bright red paint had splattered everywhere, standing out starkly against the white walls. The TV had also been knocked over and smashed in. He had taken a knife to their couch, exposing the stuffing. Worse yet, he'd done the same to several of Molly's paintings, turning her works of art into shredded strips of painted canvas.

Molly had her sketchpad on her lap. She was sketching her assailant with a charcoal pencil clutched in her shaking hand. Even upside-down and from across the room Sierra recognized Eric's face in the drawing. Etched in charcoal, his long hair looked like wisps of smoke. The cold expression in his eyes bored into her and she couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt wash over her. Was this her fault? Had Molly been caught in the cross fire caused by her ambition?

Sierra rushed over and hugged her.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "How bad are you hurt?"

"That son-of-a-bitch destroyed my paintings."

"I saw. Molly, I'm so sorry."

"He wanted you. He kept asking where you were and I didn't know where the hell you were even if I'd wanted to tell him. Which I didn't. Because I'm a really fucking good friend."

"You are the best of the friends. I'm going to buy you new overpriced paints. And wine."

One of the cops interrupted.

"Do you know this man?" he asked, indicating the charcoal drawing.

"No," Sierra lied. "I've never seen him before."

"Any idea why someone might want to hurt you?"

"I told you," Molly interjected. "She's a reporter. She basically pisses people off for a living. It could have been for dozens of reasons, right Sierra?"

"Yeah," Sierra agreed, seizing on the plausible narrative like a life raft. "I can call my editor and have him scan the hate mail file to you."

"Please do," the cop said.

The cops continued to question them for the next hour. When they asked Molly to go over it all again for the third time that night Joe stepped in and demanded if it was necessary. The cops, bashful after being chastised by the governor, agreed to call it a night. They promised to have a patrol car check in on them periodically, asked that Sierra and Molly call if they remembered anything, and went on their way.

By then Molly was three glasses of wine in and had almost stopped shaking.

"Okay," Molly said, adopting her rarely used no-nonsense voice, "Now you're going to tell me why you lied to the cops."

Her accusation hung in the air. Speechless, Sierra turned to Joe, who wouldn't meet her eyes. He was looking determinedly at a piece of couch stuffing.

"You can't know," he said finally. "I'm sorry you can't know, but it will just put you in danger. More danger then I've already put you both in."

He knelt down eye level with Molly and took her hand.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you why that man attacked you. He's a coward for hurting someone weaker than himself. But I promise you I will find him and I will... I will not let him be a danger to either of you again."

He stood up and finally met Sierra's eyes. With a sad expression, he caressed her face.

"Sierra, I've enjoyed our time together, but I need to keep you safe, and you can never be safe when you're with me. We can't see each other anymore."

Sierra reeled from the shock.

"What? You're dumping me? Now?"

He continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"I'm going to get security to patrol your place. They'll make sure no one bothers you again."

Sierra felt hot tears spring into her eyes she refused to allow to fall. She wasn't sure if she was more angry, scared, or heart broken.

"I have to go now," he said as he headed for the door. He gave her one last, sad look before leaving.

"Goodbye Sierra."